


Aligning Fates

by tadanomarz



Series: Aligning Fates [1]
Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Action/Adventure, Also other minor characters appearing!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Enemies to Friends, Gen, Master & Servant, Platonic Relationships, not ur typical hgw obvs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 09:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24468841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tadanomarz/pseuds/tadanomarz
Summary: They are fated to clash, to tear through one another, at the fated battlefield.It won't matter, even if strange new magic is involved this time.Four Houses, two organizations working against one another, and one Sword of the Creator wielder.It's all for the sake of peace.Unless? It diverges off the path, just a bit.
Relationships: Black Eagles Students & Blue Lions Students & Golden Deer Students (Fire Emblem), Claude von Riegan & Tristan | Archer, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd & Artoria Pendragon | Lancer, Edelgard von Hresvelg & Gorgon | Avenger, Jeralt Reus Eisner & Iskandar | Rider, My Unit | Byleth & Dioscuri Pollux (Fate/Grand Order) & Dioscuri Castor (Fate/Grand Order), Rhea & Amakusa Shiro Tokisada | Ruler, Seteth & Kijyo Kōyō | Berserker, Those Who Slither in the Dark (Fire Emblem) & Paracelsus von Hohenheim | Caster, Yuri Leclair & Yang Qing | Assassin
Series: Aligning Fates [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1767427
Comments: 9
Kudos: 35





	1. Lion Knight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prince and A King of a distant land meet.

The scenery around Dimitri is in utter chaos; it is bathed in flames that stretch across for miles. If Dimitri hadn’t known better, he’d assume it’d be the Goddess’s fury. He feels like he oxygen has been squeezed from his lungs; all the running he’s been doing isn’t any better. He’s been searching for someone, anyone–! 

But corpses are the only things that lay at his feet. There are far too many for him to count, mixed with soldiers from both Duscur and Faergheus. He’s been desperately searching for survivors, but has come up with none. His body reacts quickly when avoiding a bolt of lighting, stumbling out of the way. When he gets a glance at them, they’ve already vanished into the flames. 

Companionship is what he seeks the most now. He drops down to his knees panting, right next to a corpse of a man from Duscur, still warm, bleeding and Dimitri’s frazzled mind quickly comes to a decision.

Desperately, Dimitri draws a magical circle from the blood of the soldiers. His Father, King Lambert passed this knowledge onto him if ever they were in need. His heart’s pounding loudly against his rib cage, vision blurred between his tears and the horrid stench of decay. The chant is complex, foreign to his ears, but Dimitri begins by placing his hand in front of the summoning circle– he feels his hand grow increasingly warm as if it were on _fire_ but he grits his teeth and bears the pain. 

_You need to continue,_ a quiet voice tells him; it’s familiar yet callous, _you must_. 

White light encompasses the circle, shining brightly against the flames. A strong wind picks up, spirals into a tornado and puts out the flames around the general vicinity. When the light fades, Dimitri drops to his knees, but he sees nothing in the center causing his heart to fall. The sound of crunching bone and a scream alerts him from behind to watch one of those strange mages being killed by a glowing lance, which twists through. The knight throws away the corpse, then dismounts from their steed.

“I ask of thee,” the voice is muffled behind the helmet. “Art thou my master?”

“Who are you?!” Dimitri yells, keeping distance from them. “ are you what was summoned forth from that magic circle?”

The knight glanced to the messy work behind him and nodd. “Indeed, you may call me Lancer, Master. We should not stay idle and chat, however, it seems we’ve in quite the dilemma.”

“Please,” Dimitri croaks, reaches for their hand, squeezing it tight. “Please help me find someone, _anyone_ from this hellscape.”

“We shall go together. Come.” Lancer replies, assisting him atop their horse, no sooner sending their horse into gallop. 

Neither of them dare look back to the bloody massacre behind them; the eyes of the dead burn into the back of Dimitri’s skull.

* * *

The stalwart, silent knight with a strange coat of arms does not go unnoticed by the other knights. They accompanied Dimitri wherever he went, only speaking when approached. They speak curtly, yet elegantly on par with the nobility so many suspected they were from one of the minor houses, but nothing turned up about the mysterious knight.Many have tried to unmask them, but have failed due to them being elusive. They fade in and out existence like a ghost, being unable to be found for hours on end only to be found by the Prince’s side. They train him, being able to handle Dimitri’s monstrous strength. 

Rodrigue became concerned upon reuniting with Dimitri, casting a suspicious eye to his looming companion. The lion shaped helmet would stare back, likely observing him too– but Dimitri would swear the knight’s loyalty, declaring how they saved him from the battlefield. 

The rumors had soon gotten to Dimitri’s childhood friends, prompting their own curiosity. Ingrid wished to fight the knight, to study under them as squire. Felix did as well, but he was beaten every time– but he’d recklessly throw himself into their spars. Sylvain would observe from a distance, impassively watching over them like a hawk. They later earned the moniker of Lion Knight due to the helmet they wore, it kept the bandits who wanted to pillage away because of their ferocity on the battlefield. 

Dedue is the only exception, however, because he learnt of Lancer’s origins. With Lancer’s help, Dimitri was able to save someone that dreadful day.

Dedue watched the violence in a mixture of horror and fascination how the knight’s lance began to glow with light, the pressure in the air shifted and the wind swirled around it. The fire was blown away, the unknown enemies along with it. Dimitri helped him to his feet, and Dedue stumbled into him, breathing heavily.

“Master.” The knight turned, green eyes staring at the prince through the visor. “You must have questions, do you not?”

“I do.” Dimitri nodded, now shifting Dedue onto his shoulder. “Who are you, no– what are you?”

“It would be unwise to reveal this, however I do not sense anyone for miles.” Lancer said, now dismounting from their steed. “I will only tell you, if you exchange your name as well.” 

“Dimitri Alexandre Blayidd.” Dimitri introduced, “ ….Crown Prince of the Holy Kingdom of Faerghaus.”

“Faerghaus.” Lancer repeats thoughtfully, then reaches for their helmet. “Tis a fair exchange, Master.” 

The helmet is removed, unveiling the identity of the stranger. 

“I am of the Lancer Class, my True Name is Arthur Pendragon– you are permitted to call me Artoria, however.” Artoria bows, now looking at him straight in the eye. It flits past him to Dedue. “And you, child?”

“...Dedue Molinaro.” Dedue coughed, prompting a look of concern from Dimitri. 

“I’ve never heard of Arthur Pendragon in my life,” Dimitri confessed coldly, “What are you?”

“It appears I’ve come across many channels to assist you.” Artoria answers vaguely, “I am a Servant– a magical familiar. You are my Master who I shall serve wholeheartedly.” 

“You are a Knight?” Dimitri raised a brow. 

“Indeed, Master, I was formally known as the King of Knights– originating from a land called Great Britain.” Artoria nods, watching Dimitri go slack jawed. “I shall become your lance to defend you from your enemies, I shall not let any harm come to you.” 

Dimitri is wordless, anything he wanted to say caught is his throat. He bites his lip instead, frowning. 

“...If you are to adhere to any command, then I wish to include Dedue as well.” Dimitri softly said, prompting shock from the other. 

“Your Highness–” Dedue attempts to protest.

Artoria casts a glance to Dedue impassively, her gaze back to Dimitri. “But of course, Master.”

“Dimitri.” The crown prince correctly. 

“....Dimitri.” Artoria repeats, then nods. She puts her helmet back on and moves closer to them, and hefts them up in her arms like it’s nothing prompting a cry of surprise. “Very well, then we must regroup your people then.”

And they rode away into the rising sun, back to Fargahaus. Before passing out, Dedue had noticed Dimitri’s family crest glowed unnaturally on his right hand. 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since Fe3h came out, I'll be honest and say I've had this on the brain for awhile. Expect sporadic updates for the rest, there'll be glimpses into the plot and how the Servants will affect it. Thanks for reading!


	2. Monsters Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two Monsters dance in the dark.

Blood. There’s so much blood. Edelgard feels disconnected from her body as she cleaves through the innocents the Slithers have brought to slaughter, to further their own ends.

As the experiment concludes, Edelgard willfully retracts her monster appendages; various bones break apart, then reform back into place, as she reverts back to her human form. She bites down her lip, playing a mantra in her head to flood out the excruciating pain that plagues her body. 

Quietly she glances up to Solon who looks down upon her, accompanied by a man dressed in strange clothes and long blue hair, overseeing the experiment. She’s never seen him before today, which was rare. He didn’t look like them, but more like.... her.

“This is the result we’ve come to.” Solon tells the stranger who glances toward her with an unreadable expression. “She has become the perfect weapon.”

The man doesn’t say a word, but casts her a sidelong glance. It’s melancholic, but it just makes Edelgard simmer with anger. 

When the other Slithers come to collect her, to clean off the dry blood from the corpses she ravaged, the blue haired man keeps his eyes on her for the longest time before following Solon through the automatic doors.

* * *

Edelgard knows she will not have a moment of peace, even after leaving Shambhala’s doors. Even when she’s returned to Hubert’s side, she feels like a husk of her former self.

It’s laughable to know she will never be free, despite her shackles being cut. The Slitherers are always watching over her, in the shadows, they will be a constant in her life unless she kills them for good.

Edelgard will get justice for her family, uprooting the insidious evil from Adrestia. All those ruined by the crest bearing fools will be exposed for the wicked creatures they are. She vows to not only herself, but to her siblings she’s lost along the way.

And to restore honor to her father, whose nothing but a husk.

Just like her. 

The winds of change come in the form of a light knock at her bedroom door. Hubert is the first to his feet, hand brimming with Reason magic. Edelgard stills in her bed, then sighs, now getting off her bed and approaching the door.

Upon opening it, a familiar face appears before her, twisting her stomach in a knot.

“Lady Edelgard.” The familiar blue man greets with a half smile.

Hubert tenses and flies to her side, placing a firm hand against her.

“What do you want, heathen?” Hubert spat, face twisting in a scowl.

“I’ve come just to talk.” The man said, carefully watching Edelgard.

“At ease Hubert.” Edelgard whispers, watching him begrudgingly back off from the situation. Facing forward, she looks up toward him without a fear in the word. “I do not believe we’ve formally met.”

“You may call me Caster.” The man said, “I’m afraid I cannot give you my real name, however I’ve come to bring you something.”

Caster removes a dagger from thin air, which prompts Hubert to edge himself between them. Edelgard watches curiously, not doesn’t say a word.

“Might I come in?” Caster asks, “I do not wish to bring harm to her boy.”

“If you’re nothing but those villains’ puppet, I’ve no reason to believe you.” Hubert sneers, but is tugged away from the door by Edelgard. “Lady Edel-“

“I said  _ at ease _ , Hubert.” Edelgard said firmly, now allowing the man into her bedroom.

Caster quietly shuts the door behind him, then draws with the dagger. With it, he cuts open a fabric of reality, and several books are summoned from it. Along with the books is a mirror that daintily falls into his hands.

“What’s this?” Edelgard asks.

“It is a layer of extra protection.” Caster replies, his expression becomes solemn. “While their plans concern me, they won’t know about this.”

“But you’re a part of their side.” Edelgard accuses, keeping her tone level. “Why should I trust  _ you—? _ For all I know, you’re amongst their ranks, a person whose identity was stolen. I know what they’ve done with my uncle.”

Caster merely sighs, his dagger disappearing from his hand. “Do with it what you will, their magic isn’t as advanced as my own, so I’ve already sound proofed this room.”

Edelgard exchanges a glance to Hubert whose expression is grim.

“I am aware we will be allies in what is to come.” Caster began, “I can aid you with what you must do.”

“Is this their order?” Edelgard asks after a lapse in silence. 

Caster looks upon her sadly again.

“My own, they may be my Master, but this is of my free will. They have chosen to trust me, since I am their Servant.” Caster informed, “and they’ve left me to my own methods, when I am not assisting them.”

“Servant.” Edelgard carefully repeats, “...in what way?”

“A tool to further their ends, they have no interest in what I am truly needed for.” Caster replies carefully, “No child should be exploited to further their own ends.”

Caster appeared to sound genuine, despite his suspicious arrival. Edelgard glances to Hubert, who frowns. They turn back to him.

“Tell is what you know then.” Hubert commands, and Caster appears to faintly smile.

* * *

A Servant is something far from their imagination, they are heroes necessary for something called a Holy Grail War, an ancient ritual used long ago.

Caster has informed them of the intricacies of one, and how supposedly there are methods of breaking the contract. Servants can contract with other Masters, should there be a reason for it.

They make a promise to transfer the contract to Hubert, when the time comes. 

Caster has left Edelgard a bountiful amount of stolen knowledge regarding Servants and how they’ve come from a land far beyond their own, not even a part of their history.

It’s rather strange how the Slithers have acquired this.

So Edelgard takes the items with her along with Hubert, deep into the castle's dungeons, where none may find them. Caster has taught Hubert the basics of sound proofing magic, to misdirect the source, which Edelgard is grateful toward.

Together they draw the summoning circle, which is enshrouded by several candles that ominously flicker about.

Edelgard decides to become a Master, it’ll be necessary for survival. No matter who she summons, she will find a way to work with them— that is what is necessary in a ruler after all.

After placing the catalyst in the center, Edelgard takes a deep breath and exhales. Caster has warned her of how dangerous it will be in her condition, but she knows she must stand against any pain thrown at her to succeed.

As she begins the chant, the flames begin to sway, and a pulse of magic begins to bounce off them. Edelgard continues on, despite the pain of her two crests that burn inside her chest. The pain spreads across her back causing her to gasp out but continues on with it. The wind begins to whip up from the circle, it alights but abruptly snuffs out, while the dungeon goes dark.

Edelgard falls to her knees gasping, while Hubert drops down to her side. Upon inspecting her body, his eyes widen upon seeing a faint glow of light coming through her cotton dress between her shoulder blades.

They have no time to compose themselves, because the air has dramatically shifted. There is a hiss from the darkness, prompting Hubert up on his feet, hand lighting the few candles that stand upright.

What he’s met with a towering shadow who looks down upon them, eyes glinting maliciously in the low light. Hubert feels himself freeze at the spot.

“Human.” It is firm and low, glancing between them. “Which of you have the rights to being my Master?”

“I am.” Edelgard announces, slowly raising to her feet. She stares at the shadow defiantly. “I am the one who has summoned you.”

“Is that so?” The Servant asks, now lowering herself to their level. Several snakes part of her hair descend, tongues flickering above. “But is your frail body able to handle my power?”

“But of course, this is nothing.” Edelgard dismisses, despite biting her lip. “Who are you?”

The Servant begins to chuckle, the room echoing with her amusement.

“How heroic, little girl.” The Servant remarks, her gigantic appearance now growing smaller, closer to a human one. “Yet incredibly foolish, I’ll enjoy seeing which of us will perish first.”

Hubert’s glare doesn’t dissuade the large woman who approaches them both, still towering above them. Her eyes covered by a large cloth, concealing her eyes. The snakes part of her hair glare, eyes condescending upon them.

“Avenger Class, I am Gorgon. I look forward to our partnership.” Gorgon said, head now tilting toward Hubert. “Should you keep glaring I will not hesitate in consuming you whole, puny human.”

Hubert says nothing in regards to the threat. The snakes hover around them, as if to ensnare them. They must have been the eyes they saw before her form grew smaller.

“How fitting.” Edelgard mumbles, wondering how far ahead Caster planned. She clears her throat, now looking at her straight on. “I am Edelgard von Hresvelg, next in line to become Emperor of the Adrestian Empire. I look forward to working together with you too, Avenger.”

“And I am Hubert von Vestra, her vassal.” Hubert introduces himself, straightening his back. His gaze hardens. “And I will not let you over use your powers as you please, her Majesty is in the process of recovering. If you use too much, it would not be beneficial to you either.”

Edelgard wonders if the over strenuous affair caused her to hallucinate or not, because for a moment she thought she witnessed Gorgon frown. 

“If it is beneficial, then do inform me.” Gorgon stated. “Get right to the point, or I will eat you.”

“Do not eat Hubert, please.” Edelgard replies in exasperation. “But give me a moment to rest, and we shall tell you.”

* * *

Albeit begrudgingly, Gorgon seems to understand the circumstances of Edelgard’s plight. But she does not mourn for her, she feels nothing.

Edelgard didn’t expect it any other way, but she has her allegiance at least. 

Plans of throwing the Church under fire have gone swimmingly since then, and she has kept Caster at arm’s length under Hubert’s instruction.

Gorgon is fairly mysterious, since she knows nothing about her. She isn’t from this land, so it’ll be up to her to attempt to get to know her. That is another reason she looks forward to attending the Monastery, to get to know her equally monstrous partner.


	3. Round Table Insight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are two new members of the Round Table of the Alliance.

There are various eyes on Claude, but it doesn’t let it get to him. His grandfather Oswald places a firm hand onto his shoulder while introducing him to the rest of the Alliance. The other nobles seated exchange glances, some with intrigue, others with suspicion and disdain; he’s used to it. He’s gotten the same stares back home, so Claude stands tall and proud, falling into his carefree facade.

He remembers his mother’s words before they parted at Fodlan’s Locket when his Grandfather personally came to meet them there after he reached out to his mother after his uncle’s death. 

_ “Don’t let them get to you, Khalid.” _ His mother, Tiana said, placing a gentle hand onto his shoulder.  _ “Learn all you can when with them.” _

The Alliance’s Nobles have quite the colorful bunch, given their array of odd hair color. But he mostly keeps that quip to himself as his grandfather Oswald concludes his little speech. Claude internally notes of the stern purples- the Gloucester Family, who he’s aware House Riegan has had trouble with. Then there’s the bright pinks opposite of them- that being House Goneril, who he knows who looks after Fodlan’s Locket.

While the other houses didn’t have their heirs in attendance, oddly enough those two did. The Goneril girl looked bored out of her mind, whereas the Gloucester boy kept staring at him. When they sit down finally at the head of the round table, the other Alliance Nobles begin their debates. 

Although Claude rather be anywhere but here, he tries to look like he’s awake and paying attention due to a secret his grandfather was planning to tell him after the whole affair and he best keeps up the rest of the bargain.

From the corner of his eye, Claude leans back in his chair watching the adults bicker. It’s something that’s never changed, no matter any meeting room. As he feigns lack of interest, Claude meets eyes with the Goneril girl who waves to him and he waves back.

At the least, he had solidarity till the whole thing was over.

* * *

The first night of debate ended, which meant the secret discussion came next. Claude follows Oswald to the treasury, to where the House Riegan’s prized heirlooms and treasures reside. Upon entering, he brings him toward the back. Placed upon an altar is a strangely crafted bow. Embedded into it is undoubtedly the House Riegan Crest Stone, which he's become acquainted with recently.

“Let me guess,” Claude began, now featuring the bow. “Our House’s Heroes Relic?”

“Indeed. You will be inheriting it, if ever the time comes.” Oswald replies with a nod, now glancing toward I. “However that isn’t all.....”

“Oh?” Claude raises his brow, not bothering to hide his intrigue. “And what else is there to discuss?”

“There has been another purpose for the Failnaught, which I’ll give you tonight.” Oswald replies, now turning to a bookshelf and removing some materials, handing it Claude. “I believe it to be important as ever to do this, especially what's occurred with your uncle.”

There had been political unrest after his uncle’s death. Foul play was suspected, leading to them needing him. It’s why Claude was here, so he pays close attention.

“In House Riegan, tales passed down in every generation regarding a ritual. By using this magic, you will gain a stalwart ally to help watch your back.” Oswald continues, now stepping toward to take Failnaught from where it’s been held. “I want you to perform that ritual tonight.”

“And how will that benefit me? I can’t say I’m not interested, but that’s fairly vague.” Claude said, tilting his head. “I can already take care of myself, I can’t go into doing this without knowing what I’m getting into.”

“Always one step ahead, I see.” Oswald remarks, “but very well. From it, you can gain immeasurable power and an extra layer of defense from it. It’s a form of Reason magic, which summons forth an ally who can fight and protect your back.”

“I’m not the greatest at Reason magic though.” Claude protests, prompting his grandfather to laugh.

“Which is why you’ll be attending the Monastery this year.” Oswald said, “bring the Failnaught with you, it'll help with the process.”

Claude takes the Failnaught and scrolls from his grandfather and stares down at them. Claude grins, while taking it all in. This will be an interesting night.

* * *

All necessary arrangements have been taken, given to him by his grandfather. Oswald already had given clearance to their guards to allow Claude anywhere. He’s still on Riegan property, but hidden in some of the royal gardens. The hedges block off most jfc the activities - allowing him some privacy. 

Claude breathes out a sigh, as the magic circle is complete, wiping off the dirt from his hand and stands over it proudly. He carefully etched each arch and symbol so he wouldn’t mess up, he’s always been rather meticulous over these kinds of things so things don’t go awry later. The Failnaught is placed near the summoning circle, positioned away just as his grandfather instructed.

Lifting his hand, he begins the chant, according to the manuscripts provided. The gentle wind fluttering around him grows stronger, but he perseveres. A glaring white light almost blinds him, but he continues on until he’s uttered the last line of the incantation. Everything ends abruptly when his sight is briefly stolen, but by the end he hears the gentle strumming of a harp.

As his sight is returned to him, Claude feels a burning sensation on his shoulder, causing him to bite his lip. But the presence of a figure causes him to tense.

“You there boy.” The stranger calls, “are you my master?”

“The one and only,” Claude replies with a smirk. “And who, have I been lucky enough to summon?”

“Knight of the Round Table, Tristan.” The red headed man introduces, now briefly bowing. “Archer Class. I have arrived to answer your summons, I pray to be useful to you.” 

The man’s eyes are closed, he wields a fairly strange bow, much different from ones Claude has handled. 

“Thanks Trist, can I call you that?” Claude asks, “My name is Claude von Riegan, nice to meet you!”

Claude catches the man’s eyes briefly open to look at him. The man’s stoic face relaxes, with a slight smile.

“I prefer while in confidence, you call me that, but I’d prefer to be called Archer.” Tristan said, fingers splayed across his bow, he strums it. 

From nearby, someone shrieks and comes running from the hedges maze. 

“What did you do?” Claude asks, glancing over to who emerged. 

“I picked out a rat listening in.” Tristan replies nonchalantly, head turning toward the direction of who emerged.

Familiar pink hair appears, much to Claude’s surprise.

“You’re Lord Goneril’s daughter.” Claude mildly said, placing a hand on his hip. “What are you doing out here?”

“Oh, I couldn’t sleep. Figured to get some night time air, the usual.” Hilda says with nonchalance, then frowns. “It’s rude to shoot a lady you know!”

Claude’s gaze falls to the strings on Tristan’s bow, which didn’t look made for combat. 

“And I juuuuust happened to overhear what you were talking about, I could tell my father about it.” Hilda adds with nonchalance, but Claude remains calm. “What are you scheming anyway?”

“Scheming? Pffth, it’s just a safety precaution.” Claude replies with a dismissive wave; he knows how to bargain. “It was an honest mistake, on his part, but you  _ aren’t _ supposed to be out here this late.”

“Rules are made to be broken.” Hilda said with a giggle. “So? What are you two up to?”

“Just getting acquainted is all.” Claude smooths over. “Old man Riegan figures it’d be best to use this as a safety precaution.”

“My deepest apologies, Lady Goneril.” Tristan’s expression contorts into sorrow. “

Hilda laughs, it’s girlish and dainty likely taught during her lessons. Claude watches her with feigned carefreeness, watching her eyes soaking Tristan in. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it, “ Hilda giggles, “hey, like, who's your tailor Tristan? The fabrics of your cloak are super silky.”

“I can’t say I recall.” Tristan said, brows furrowing downward. “My apologies.”

“Ah, Trist! You’re soooo stiff!” Hilda now leaning forward, side-eying the magic circle. “But hey, need some help? That looks pretty intricate.” 

“Oh, sure.” Claude concedes, now turning back to it and grabs the wooden bucket. 

Hilda grabs another put off to the side, while Tristan grabs the last of it and simultaneously they erase the evidence of the magic circle.

“Now, I’m starved.” Hilda said, stretching out her arms above her head. “You think you can lead me to the kitchen, hm Claude?”

Hilda definitely was someone to watch out for. 

“You’re bribing me with food now, huh?” Claude chuckled, watching Hilda gasp. “Well alright, but promise you won’t tell anyone.”

“Promised. So, what can I call you? Archer? Tristan?” Hilda glances over toward him. Tristan’s brow creases, lips pursing.

We best keep Lady Hilda at arms length. Tristan’s words bubble throughout Claude’s mind, so soft he hardly caught it.

“ Drustanus .” Tristan implores. “if you’d please.”

“Alrighty, Sir Drust. “ Hilda smiles, “let’s get some food then?”

Hilda’s already leaving the hedge maze, leaving Claude and Tristan in the dust. They exchange a glance then follow her with the moon creeping out of the clouds, a witness to their vow.

* * *

After discovering the importance of communicating telepathically, Claude decides to speak with Tristan like this hereon. It doesn’t stop Hilda’s persistent questions after the Alliance’s meetings. She jabbers away, while they explore the Riegan estate. But he’s able to deflect them with witty remarks, directing them at herself instead.

It’s almost like a game of cat and mouse, seeing when the other might slip up. It’s fun, while he teases information that she’s so dying to hear about. Each time it’s like he’s playing a metaphorical chess game against Hilda, whose sly in her wit. She’s crafty, he’ll give her that. Claude never knows what she’ll come up next. Some of her actions are easy to read, but other times he isn’t as sure— so he’s determined to keep her at arm's length for now.

Oswald makes it a point to nonchalantly mention Tristan to the other nobles when he’s mentioned.  _ One of my most trusted knights, _ Oswald mentioned over his mead, turning over documents regarding negotiations regarding trading and a slew of bandit issues that’s cropped up on Gloucester territory.

The Count’s son starts inserting himself between the three of them, much to both Claude and Hilda’s dismay. It’s clear of what kind of person Lorenz is, so Claude wears an ambiguous smile all throughout their conversations.

“ _ Master, _ ” Tristan’s airy voice flows into Claude’s mind. “ _ This one, talks a fair amount. _ ”

Claude stifled a snort. “ _ Clearly full of himself, yeah? _ ”

It’s almost like Claude can envision Tristan’s disappointed face. “ _ This round table surely needs some work. _ ”

Claude’s brows knit together, interest piqued as he divides his attention between the conversation Hilda and Lorenz are having over Fodlan’s Locket and Tristan. 

“ _ Hoh? Not to your approval? _ ” Claude internally quips, with a slight wry smile. 

“ _ There isn’t a balance. _ ” Tristan mutters. “ _ I suspect something suspicious is afoot.” _

“ _ And here I thought you were asleep for most of these meetings. _ ” Claude hums, eyes darting between the pair and toward his grandfather talking with the other nobles. “ _ Looks like I’ve got a lot cut out for me then. _ ”

“So in a couple of months we’ll be attending the Monastery.” Hilda said, twirling locks of her pink hair. “All that work, I’m  _ totally _ not looking forward it.”

“Certainly it’ll be an enriching experience.” Lorenz said with a self satisfied smile. “People from all over will be attending, numerous soon to be world leaders....! I’ve heard how the education there is amazing.”

“Yeah, Holst said that too.” Hilda said, now glancing toward Claude. “What do ya think, Claude?”

“Hopefully they’ll keep me interested, otherwise I might just tap out.” Claude shrugs, “but surely the networking will just be an ego trip for you, Lorenz.”

Lorenz gasped, face contorting into annoyance. “Clearly you do not value the experience you’ll gain?”

Tristan smiles, amused. “ _ A good jab Milord, but perhaps you should have taken it a step further _ .”

Claude internally laughs, he didn’t know the stalwart knight had a dry sense of humor. “ _ Can’t cause political unrest too early now.” _

“We’ll see what happens.” Claude replies with nonchalance, clearly indifferent.

Hilda’s brows arch up in suspicion, now letting out a yawn. “I’m sure it’ll be just like the balls and meetings here, all those nobles coming to confess their love for me. Hopefully our Professor is lenient, yeah?”

“You two clearly are more into yourselves, than worrying about the future of the Alliance.” Lorenz accused, his demeanor changing on a dime. “—I hope you do not tarnish the Alliance’s name when our house is present.”

“I’m sure we’ll spice things up.” Claude wears a half smile, watching Lorenz fume in frustration. “Besides, we gotta win the Battle of Eagle and Lion.”

“Can’t we just like, let the Empire or the Kingdom win?” Hilda pouts in Claude’s direction. “I can’t believe you’re making me work, Claude!”

“A great tactician is always two steps ahead.” Claude chuckled. “I’d never do anything to ruin its reputation.”

_ To better the world, _ Claude thinks absentmindedly. It would be a step into the right direction. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Drustanus is literally just the Latin/Brythonic version of Tristan's name! I had fun looking into him, since I hadn't paid much attention to Tristan initially in FGO. Can't believe he's holding in his roasts from the Alliance's Round Table. I saw from his interlude the Round Table members go hard with their "jokes" LOOOOL 
> 
> Anyway, till next time! We'll be seeing things about our next Lord then!


End file.
